“Aw, c’mon.”
“And put that thing away before you scare some kid,”
“Santa, there you are.” The nurse who’d come out earlier rolled her eyes at Eve, then got a good grip on Santa’s arm. “Let’s go over here.”
“Want a present? I got a present for you right here.”
“Yeah, yeah. That’s all I want for Christmas.”
Eve turned back as the doors opened. She grabbed the closest pair of scrubs.
“What’s his status?”
“You the wife?”
“No, I’m the cop.”
“Cab versus man, cab usually wins. But he’s stable.” The doctor veed his fingers, slid them up his nose to rub the inside corners of his eyes. “Broken arm, fractured hip, bruised kidney. Head trauma’s the worst of it. But barring complications, he should do. He got off lucky.”
“Need to talk to him.”
“He’s loaded up. We’ve got him stabilized. Going to send him up for some tests. Couple hours, maybe, things go right, he’ll be able to hold a conversation.” Curiosity washed over the fatigue in his eyes. “Don’t I know you? The cop, right? I’ve worked my magic on you before.”
“Dallas. Probably.”
“Yeah, Dallas. You get around. Look, I need to talk to the wife.”
“Fine. I’m going to put a man on him. I don’t want anyone talking to him but me until I clear it.”
“What’s the deal?”
“Material witness. I’m Homicide.”
“Oh, yeah. Yeah! Icove case. Crazy bastards. Well, your material witness should live to sing. I’m that good.”
She shifted, watching as they wheeled Bobby out. He’d left some of his skin on the street, she noted. What was left was white as bone. When they cut back the drugs, he was going to hurt like a son of a bitch, but he was breathing on his own.
“I’m going up with him, until the uniform reports.”
“Suit yourself. Just stay out of the way. Happy holidays and so forth,” the doctor added as he headed toward the waiting area.
* * *
Eve stood outside again, another floor, another door, while they ran their scanners and diagnostics. And while she waited, the elevators opened. Zana rushed out, Peabody on her heels.
“The doctor said he was going to be okay.” Tears had tracked through Zana’s makeup, leaving their trail. She grabbed Eve’s hands, squeezed.
“He’s going to be okay. They’re just running some tests. I was afraid… I was afraid—” Her voice hitched. “I don’t know what I would’ve done. I just don’t know.”
“I want you to tell me what happened.”
“I told the detective. I told her I—”
“I want you to tell me. Hold on.”
She walked to the uniformed officer as he got off the elevator. “Subject is Bobby Lombard. Material witness, homicide. I want you with him every step. You check the room they put him in, you check ID on everyone—I mean everyone—who attempts access. He grunts the wrong way, I want to hear about it. Understood?”
“Yes, sir.”
Satisfied, she went back to Zana. “Okay, we’re going to find a place, have a seat. I want everything. Every detail.”
“Okay, but… I just don’t understand any of this.” She chewed her lip, looking over her shoulder at the doors while Eve hauled her away. “Can’t I just stay, wait until—”
“We’re not going far.” She hailed a nurse simply by holding up her badge.
“Good,” he said. “I’m under arrest. That means I can sit down for five minutes.”
“I need your break room.”
“I have a vague recollection of the break room. Chairs, a table, coffee. Down there, make a left. Oh hell, you need a key card. Security’s getting to be a bitch. I’ll take you.”
He led the way, keyed them in, then stuck his head in. “Okay, I smelled the coffee. It’s not all bad.” He headed off down the hall.
“Sit down, Zana,” Eve told her.
“I’ve just got to move around. I can’t sit still.”
“I get that. Go over what happened.”
“Just like I told you before. Like I told the detective.”
“Repeat it.”
As she did, Eve picked apart the details. “You got bumped, spilled coffee.”
“On my coat.” Zana picked up the coat she’d tossed in a chair. “It wasn’t this bad. The first time. More spilled when Bobby… God, I can still see it.”
“Was it a bump or a push?”
“Oh, I don’t know. A bump, I guess. So many people. In part of my head I was thinking it was so exciting. Being out, the crowds, the windows, the noise. We had the soy dogs, and the packages. We should’ve gone back. I know Bobby wanted to. But—”
“You didn’t. Did Bobby say anything? Did you see anything, before he fell?”
“No… I was fussing with my coat, looking down and thinking how I hoped it would come out. I think he held a hand out, like he was going to take the coffee so I could deal with the stain. Then he was falling. I—I grabbed for him,” she managed, as her voice began to break. “Then the horn, and the squealing. It was horrible.”
Her shoulders shook as she dropped her face in her hands. Peabody stepped up with a cup of water. Zana took a sip and a couple of shuddering breaths. “People stopped to help. Everyone says how New Yorkers are cold and kind of mean, but they’re not. People were nice, they were good. They tried to help. The police came up. The ones who came with us. Bobby was bleeding, and he wouldn’t wake up. The MTs came. Do you think they’ll let me see him soon?”
“I’ll check.” Peabody turned toward the door, stopped. “Do you want some coffee?”
“I don’t think I’ll ever drink another cup.” Zana dug in her pocket, pulled out a tissue. And buried her face in it.
Eve left her there, stepped out with Peabody.
“I didn’t get any more out of her either,” Peabody began. “She’s clueless about the fact that it may have been a deliberate attack.”
“We’ll see what Bobby says. The record?”
“Baxter was taking it to the lab personally and I got the homers off the coats.”
“Good thinking.”
“I’ve got his list of wits, and copies of statements taken on-scene. The cabbie’s holding at Central. His license is valid. Been hacking for six years. Few traffic bumps. Nothing major.”
“Head down there now. Get his initial statement, and his particulars for follow-up. Spring him. Write it up, copy to me, copy to Whitney.” Eve checked the time. “Shit. Nothing more to be done. I’m sticking here until I interview Bobby. Get it wrapped back at the house, then go home. Merry Christmas.”
“You sure? I can wait until you report in.”
“No point. If there’s anything, I’ll let you know. Finish packing, go to Scotland. Drink… what is it?”
“Wassail. I think it’s wassail, especially over there. Okay, thanks. But I’ll consider myself on call until the shuttle takes off tomorrow.
“Merry Christmas, Dallas.”
Maybe, she thought, and looked back toward the break room as Peabody walked away. But some people were going to have the crappiest of holidays.
She waited an hour while Bobby was tested, transferred, and set up in a room. When she walked in, he turned his head, tried to focus with glassy eyes that were rimmed with red. “Zana?” he said in a voice slurred with drugs.
“It’s Dallas. Zana’s fine. She’ll be here in a minute.”
“They said…” He licked his lips. “I got hit by a cab.”
“Yeah. So how’d that happen?”
“I dunno. It’s mixed up. I feel really weird.”
“It’s the meds. The doctor says you’re going to be fine. Got some broken bones, and took a good crack on the head. Concussion. You were waiting for the light. To cross the street.”
“Waiting for the light.” He closed his bruised eyes. “Packed in on the corner like, what is it, sardines. Lots of noise. Zana made a noise. Scared me.”
“What kind of noise ?”
He looked up at her. “Like, ah…” He sucked in his breath. “Sorta. But she just spilled some coffee. Coffee and dogs and bags. Arms loaded. Gonna get a hat.”
“Stick with me here, Bobby,” she said as his eyes fluttered closed again. “What happened then?”
“I… she gave me that smile. I remember that smile—like, ‘Oops, look what I did now.’ And I dunno, I dunno. I heard her scream. I heard people yelling, and horns blasting. I hit something. They said it hit me, but I hit, and I don’t remember until I woke up here.”